island under cloud

cocks do not crow at sunrise alone
you hear them calling at all hours
in times of sunshine or in showers
you hear so clearly that singular tone
piercing and surprising to the bone
disturbing those in their hidden bowers
but not arousing the far older powers
the bird reminds us we are not alone
so many greens under the watery sky
the sounds are strange the beasts repel
our approaches their purpose is well-known
above all this a boy would want to fly
to hear the stories that the trees could tell
and see the things that must be shown